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Favorite Words Story: Grant Berry
April 25th, 2011 It was Friday afternoon, and Samson James-Williamson the squirrel (yes, with a hyphen) had just left the hairdresser. His fur was now luxuriously gleaming in the sunlight, and he felt brilliant. Never the possessor of a vast quantity of knowledge, Samson always held his looks as a prime focus; I suppose you could say he was a bit vain, especially for a squirrel. As he was walking, he couldn’t resist the chance to take a look at himself in the store window. As he looked it his reflection, it was the funniest thing: he saw his normal reflection staring back at him, but in the corner to his right he saw what looked like another reflection of himself, smirking with an impish glance. He turned around to look, but there was nothing there. Shrugging it off, Samson went on his merry way. This evening he had tickets to a show at the theatre just outside of town, across the old, wooden bridge. Tonight’s event was particularly exciting: an opera about Norse gods and goddesses called Ragnarok. It promised to be full of beautiful music, delightful choreography, and a star-studded cast (that surely Samson wouldn’t know anything about, but it was classy; that was all that mattered). Before heading off to the theatre, though, Samson thought it best to have a quick snack, so he stopped by the grocery store on the corner. Once at the Veggie Mart, Samson filled his shopping basket with strawberries, a cucumber, and some zucchini (he had read in People that these were good for maintaining a smooth, shiny coat). As he was in line to check out, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, but no one was there. As Samson was turning his head back toward the front of the store, he was startled by a large Nightingale yelling “Peek-A-Boo!” “Oh Lord, you scared me half to death!” said Samson, recognizing Niles the Nightingale, an old college friend. “How are you, stranger?” “Oh, I’m doing splendidly! I just came into town today, and I needed a spoon to eat the cereal I brought with me. Can you believe that I forgot to pack one in my luggage?” said Niles. Niles the Nightingale was in the choir in college, and his talent in music was as sporadic as his memory. If one thing was for sure, he would be able to help Samson sound more intelligent this evening at Ragnarok. “Say Niles,” chimed Samson, “I don’t suppose you have plans this evening…?” “As a matter of fact, I don’t. Why do you ask?” replied Niles. “Well, you see…I’m going to the show this evening at the theatre across the bridge. It’s an opera called''Ragnarok''.” “Ah, I’ve heard of it! It’s supposedly splendid!” said Niles, excitedly. “Would you want to accompany me?” asked Samson. “With pleasure! But oh dear, I don’t have a ticket, and they’ve surely sold out…” “Perhaps the fox will be there. He works as a bookie during the week, but he’s been known to scalp tickets on occasion.” Niles agreed, and shortly they were on their way to the bridge to see if the fox was sneaking around. Sure enough, the fox was slinking around in a trench coat underneath the old bridge. “Fox, do you happen to have any tickets left for Ragnarok tonight?” asked Samson. “Indeed…” whispered the fox, “but they’re quite a hot commodity. They won’t be cheap.” After a bit of haggling, Samson was able to get a ticket for Niles at a not-exorbitant, though slightly unreasonable price. Fortunately, it was in the same section as him, so perhaps they would be able to sit by one another. This would be ideal, since Samson would be able to ask Niles all of his questions regarding the musical numbers, the historical background, and –most importantly-- the plot. Soon after, Niles and Samson were seated in the dark, little theatre watching the spectacle. They had an incredible time listening to the string-heavy musical score, and Niles was moved by the fluidity of motion of the dancers portraying Thor and Freya. Time flew by, and before they knew it the curtains had come down and everyone was giving the cast a standing ovation. “What a brilliant show,” said Samson as he left the theatre with Niles. “Yes, absolutely delightful! I was particularly taken aback by the scene where Thor sees his Doppelgänger through the peephole and foresees his own death,” replied Niles the Nightingale. “I’m inclined to agree, Niles,” said Samson the Squirrel, “though, even though it may seem a silly question, what does one mean by the term doppelgänger?” “Ah, good question, Samson,” replied Niles. “You see, a doppelgänger is a double of an individual which is said to appear as an omen of death. Generally it manifests itself as a copy of an individual, sometimes with darker features or more sinister behaviors. They say many famous people have seen doppelgangers before their death…even Abraham Lincoln! Can you believe it?” Samson’s fur, which before was a soft, glamorous brown, turned white.